


Tell Me I'm Pretty

by pikasafire



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikasafire/pseuds/pikasafire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eric can't tell if they're crazy about each other or just crazy</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tell Me I'm Pretty

**Author's Note:**

> Quick fill for a prompt on hapakitsune's "Grinding it out in the Corner" prompt meme.

*

Eric's not sure what's with the dozen small Hurricanes bears that are duct taped to Sasha's locker. He side-eyes them as he walks in, opens his mouth as if to ask and, after thinking about it for a moment, decides he doesn't want to know.

Cam catches him looking, grins over at him as he wrestles with his goalie pads. "Don't ask." Cam advises.

There's a 98% chance this is entirely Cam's fault. "Wasn't gonna," Eric says, holding his hands up.

He does watch Sasha's face when he comes in, half-asleep and vague. He stops in front of his stall, blinking a few times in confusion before a huge grin spreads over his face. He laughs, turning to shout something at Cam in Russian. Eric has no idea what he's saying, but Sasha's tone and gleeful expression promises that it's nothing polite.

The last time Eric swore at Cam like that, he ended up with a bruise on his arm that lasted for weeks. But, Cam just laughs right back at him, even when Sasha moves within punching distance. Yeah, that's weird.

Whatever. It's a crazy Russian and a _goalie_. Eric supposes there's no way anything they do will be normal.

*

Sasha's a strange guy. The first time he requested tea at intermission, the locker room fell silent for a moment before they all seemed to remember that Sasha is the type of person to glue little colourful diamenties to his shoes unironically. In that context, tea's not quite so weird.

It is, however, a little more surprising when, in the intermission of a game against the Rangers, Sasha solemnly presents Cam with a cup of tea.

They're down 3-1, Cam storming about the locker room in a fury and so when Sasha steps in front of him, holding out a cup of tea like a gift, Eric's half expecting Cam to throw it back in his face.

Instead, Cam blinks at him, looking startled and smiles, accepting the tea with exaggerated seriousness. "Thanks," murmured so quietly that Eric's not entirely sure he even heard it.

Sasha murmurs something back that Eric doesn't catch, but it makes Cam smile, tap his stick against Sasha's pads with his free hand, and knocks their helmets together gently. Sasha just grins and goes back to his stall and Eric turns away, feeling a little like he's witnessed something private.

*

The breaking point is the gear.

It doesn't take a genius. They're hockey players. You don't fuck with each others gear unless you're pretty damn certain that its going to go well. Which is approximately never.

So seeing Sasha stick those stupid sparkly diamenties all over Cam's practice helmet stops Eric in his tracks.

"Are you sure you should be doing that?"

Sasha doesn't look up, "Is funny."

"Cam mightn't think so."

Sash grins at him, "He find it _hilarious_." He regards the helmet thoughtfully. "Needs glitter."

Eric turns away. When Cam hits the roof, he wants to be able to deny all knowledge of this happening.

Cam scowls when he sees it, throwing a balled up sock across the room at Sasha's head. "Asshole." He says, but there's no heat in it.

Sasha stays silent, grinning over at him innocently. "Not me."

"Fucker." Cam says, pulling his helmet on and being suddenly doused in a metric fuckton of pink glitter. "The _fuck_?" He says, yanking it back off. It really only makes the situation worse, glitter going everywhere.

Sasha loses it, laughing hard enough that his breath comes in laboured, wheezing gasps. It's hard not to laugh with him,

"I have glitter in my _mouth_." Cam says horrified.

"You have dinosaurs in your mouth." Sasha says, between breaths.

It makes no sense but Cam laughs, a sure sign they've avoided any potential explosions of temper.

"C'mon guys, on the ice." Eric shouts. They may have escaped Cam losing it, but Eric would like to keep it that way.

Practice is bizarre to watch, Cam scowling, glitter puffing out in little clouds every time he makes a stop. Sasha is complete useless for most of practice, spending the majority of his time skating around Cam's net, shouting things that Eric's mostly glad he can't hear.

It's weird. That's all.

It's when Cam takes of his helmet for a drink, wincing as he rubs glitter from his eyes, that the ball drops for Eric. Sasha skates up, pulls a glove off and reaches up to brush glitter from Cam's cheekbone. Cam doesn't like to be touched, Eric knows this, so to see him turn his face into Sasha's touch, the way they're talking quietly, smiling and _oh_.

"Are they... flirting?" Eric asks uncertainly. "Like, they're-" He stumbles over the word, " _together_?"

Jordy looks at him like he's an idiot. "Of course."

"I can't tell." Eric says, "I'm not sure if they're crazy about each other or just crazy."

"It's _Cam_ and _Sasha_ ," Jordan points out. "Why can't they be both?"

Well. Eric supposes he has a point. "I don't even know how you know this."

Jordy rolls his eyes, "Sid and Geno," he says, like it's obvious. "Trust me, it was much more painful with those two."

Eric doesn't want to know. But the next time he sees Cam gluing Sasha's shoelaces together, he smiles to himself and turns away. Heaven forbid he get in the way of romance after all.

*


End file.
